Dearly Departed
by pagetcookgubler
Summary: "And now, there she was, sitting in her car, wondering if all those little things that she had always thought were just Derek being Derek actually meant something to him – meant something to her. She supposed they did." Takes place during Tribute. Emily realizes her feelings for Derek and decides to pay him a visit.
1. Something Beautiful

**Chapter One**

Somewhere along the way in the ten years that Emily Prentiss befriended her team at the BAU, she earned the nickname 'Queen of Compartmentalization.' She was always the one to keep her cool during the toughest cases. So she wasn't sure how JJ was able to see right through her façade when she flew in from London to catch Michael Peterson. In the middle of the case, she had pulled the brunette aside to seemingly grill her on her feelings that she somehow didn't even know about.

"You should talk to him."

Emily was dumbfounded by her friend's words, her eyes traveling to the suspect board in front of them. Surely, she didn't mean Peterson, but she felt the need to clarify anyway. "Who? Peterson?"

JJ let out a scoff in response and shook her head, rolling her eyes. The older woman spoke more languages than she could count. She was one of the best profilers the BAU has ever seen, but sometimes JJ noticed that she could be a complete idiot. "No. Derek. You should talk to _Derek_. After we catch this asswipe, of course."

Emily subconsciously smiled at the mentioning of her former colleague. She suddenly found herself fidgeting with her hands and the look on JJ's face only made her more confused. "Why?"

JJ looked at Emily, her hand covering her mouth to hide her smirk. "Uh, because you're in love with him." It had been a popular topic of discussion between her and the rest of the team when Emily was still in DC, but they had never brought it up with either party they were gossiping about. Until now.

Emily's eyebrows shot up and she let out a snort, obviously amused at the idea of her being in love with her best friend. "With Derek? Yeah, right." She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and they must have turned a noticeable shade of pink because JJ was quick to make a triumphant 'ha!'

"You're blushing. You love him. We all see it, you know." She smiled widely, happy that Emily unwillingly proved her point. JJ noticed the way that Emily talked about Derek when they arrived in New York with Rossi. She wanted to ask the older man if he'd noticed it too, but she hadn't found the time.

"There's nothing to see!" At least, Emily didn't think so. She had a boyfriend, and Derek was married, for Christ's sake. He had a son. She felt a twinge of pain in her heart at the thought of Derek Morgan being committed to someone else. _No, Emily_. She thought, stuffing her hands in her pockets. It was a nervous habit she picked up after her therapy sessions – a substitute for nail biting. _You don't love him. You_ _ **can't**_ _love him._

Was this really what they wasted their free time on? Hers and Derek's relationship? Garcia, she could understand. But the rest of them? Even Hotch? She shook her head. This was ridiculous. She wasn't in love with Derek. She'd just set them straight, that's all. "He's married." Even though JJ knew about Mark, she failed to mention him in her seemingly pointless argument.

"And you have a boyfriend." JJ added pointedly. "Mark." She noticed Emily's facial expressions when she mentioned Mark. There was nothing – no smile, no blushing, no signs of real love. "You should talk to him." She repeated, her voice firmer this time, before leaving Emily in the empty conference room with her thoughts.

* * *

Two days later, she found herself in front of Derek's house. Her knuckles were turning white from gripping the steering wheel so hard, and JJ's words kept running through her mind.

 _"_ _You love him."_

Emily shook her head, attempting to rid it of all thoughts of Derek Morgan. She couldn't. She remembered the last time he held her in his arms. She remembered way conversation came so easily for them, the feeling of strength and safety that she could never seem to find with Mark, the way she caught him looking at her once after the whole Ian Doyle fiasco.

 _Emily looked up from her paperwork when she felt a pair of eyes on her, turning towards Derek. He turned away quickly, but not quick enough. "What?" She subconsciously reached up to touch her face, afraid that she had been walking around the bullpen with some leftover lunch on her. "Do I have something on my face?"_

 _Derek looked up from his own stack of papers that he suddenly became interested in again, his eyes a mixture of confusion and…embarrassment? "What?" Derek shook his head, his cheeks burning. The floor was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room as he muttered, "No, you're good."_ _ **You're perfect**_ , _he thought._

 _Emily eyed Derek suspiciously. Maybe something was wrong and he didn't know how to talk about it. Maybe he was just checking to see if she was okay. Ever since she came back, he was more protective of her. He told her once that it was because he couldn't lose her again. She understood. Hotch said it nearly ruined him the first time. She shrugged, deciding to let it go. He would open up when he was ready._

They never brought it up again. And now, there she was, sitting in her car, wondering if all those little things that she had always thought were just Derek being Derek actually meant something to him – meant something to _her_.

She supposed they did.

* * *

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Derek mumbled to the unexpected – and extremely persistent – visitor on the other side of the door. Savannah took Hank to visit her parents, so he had the house to himself for the weekend. He was roused out of bed by the doorbell ringing incessantly, and it was then that he planned to give whoever was at his door at 1:00 AM in the pouring rain a piece of his mind. Of course, that all changed when he saw her. "Prentiss." He whispered, his breath caught in his throat.

After a minute of standing in complete silence, she finally spoke. "Are you gonna invite me in? I'm starting to resemble a drowned rat out here."

Derek seemingly snapped out of whatever stupor he was in and opened the door wider for her to come in. He grabbed a towel from the linen closet down the hall and handed it to Emily. "Here. I'll be right back." He went upstairs and emerged a few minutes later to grab two of his t shirts. "You should change into something dry before you get pneumonia." He threw one of the shirts on himself before handing the other one to Emily.

Emily attempted to lighten the mood by making a joke. Apparently, Derek wasn't amused because when she said, "I've gotten worse," his eyes changed from the warm and inviting ones that kept her going in London to cold and angry. She'd never seen those eyes before. She decided she didn't like them. "Sorry." Sometimes she forgot just how much Derek was affected by Ian Doyle.

He nodded, avoiding her gaze. "Third door on your right." He sat down on the couch while he waited for her to change. He sighed, turning on the TV and mindlessly flipping through the channels in an attempt to take his mind off of what the woman in his bathroom wanted.

Emily emerged from the bathroom, wearing the three-sizes-too-big t shirt. Her hair had almost dried, but Derek wasn't sure if that was courtesy of the towel or just her hair. "Thanks." She gave him a small smile, sitting next to him. She frowned when he stood up again, watching him pace around in front of the TV. She'd never seen him like that before. "Derek?"

He stopped in front of her, his eyes trained on hers. He couldn't take it. Being that close to her, feeling the warmth of her body, smelling her perfume – it brought back too many memories. Memories he'd worked so hard to forget. "What are you doing here?"

Emily was silent, taken aback by his reaction. When she told JJ that she was going to see him, the blonde woman insisted that he would be elated to see her again. "I was working a case with the guys. A copycat terrorizing…"

"No." He snapped. The cold and angry eyes were back. "I mean _here_ , in my house. You shouldn't be here."

Emily's heart stung at his words. He was right, though. Who was she to interrupt his new life? She could understand his frustration. She stood quickly, shaking her head and heading towards the door. "You're right. I'll go. I'm sorry to intrude." She had one foot out the door before he grabbed her hand. She quickly turned around, the familiar feeling of home – his hand in hers – enough to bring tears to her eyes. She blinked them away, but not before Derek noticed them.

"Jesus, Prentiss, I didn't mean…" He pulled her to him, closing the door with his bare foot. He held her to his chest, his hand running through her hair. She fit so perfectly in his arms, but he couldn't think about that now. He breathed in the familiar scent of her green apple shampoo, his cheek resting on top of her head. "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

"Believe me, I do." She muttered into his chest before reluctantly pulling away. She still held him at arm's length, craving his warmth. She guessed he felt the same way because he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks softly.

He was the first to pull away, as if he suddenly remembered that he was married. He cleared his throat and avoided her gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. "You want a beer?"

"Yes." Emily was a little too quick to answer, causing Derek to chuckle.

"Glad to see London hasn't changed you too much." He walked into the kitchen, Emily following close behind. He grabbed two beers, opening both bottles before handing one to Prentiss.

"Thanks." She smiled gratefully, taking a giant swig of the Budweiser. After a few moments of comfortable silence, she spoke again. "How's Hank?" She noticed how he lit up when she mentioned his son. She couldn't help but smile herself at the thought of Derek as a father. He'd always been good with kids and he had even told her once that he wanted kids so that he could have the chance to be the father that he never had.

"He's perfect. You missed him by a day. Savannah took him to visit her parents."

Emily felt a sense of relief knowing that they had the place to themselves.

* * *

Emily wasn't sure how long they spent just talking, but somewhere along the way, they found themselves sitting on the couch once again. This time, though, Derek didn't pull away. They definitely weren't _drunk_ , but Emily was starting to feel a buzz and after four beers, she guessed Derek was feeling the same. She could feel his eyes burning into her and she tried hard to focus on the show playing on the TV. Her stomach was turning and she got that same feeling she had when she danced with him at JJ's wedding. She just didn't realize what it was back then. _Leave it to JJ to point out the feelings I never knew I had._ She thought, taking another drink of her beer.

"Prentiss." Derek put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Look at me, Emily."

Her eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears. This was a mistake. Too many people would be hurt if they went through with this. She closed her eyes tightly, ridding them of her tears. It was a combination of the aftereffects of the case and the beer. It was making her an emotional train wreck – more so than usual, anyway. She silently cursed when a single tear slipped down her cheek and it was her turn to pull away from Derek when he reached over to wipe it away. "I'm sorry, I can't…" She stood, only to find herself being pulled back down on the couch a second later.

"Why do you always have to do this, Em?" His own eyes were looking into hers and she noticed they were filled with pain and sorrow. "Why can't you just let me in?" He stopped and gazed at her. He could see the tears she was trying not to shed. Before he could process what was happening, she looked away quickly, her entire body shaking with quiet sobs.

He hesitantly put a hand on her back, rubbing it in soothing circles. He wasn't sure if it was something he said or if she was upset over something else. Either way, he hated it. He's seen decapitations, rape – hell, he's seen dead bodies nailed to crosses – but he realized that nothing was as bad as seeing Emily Prentiss cry. "Hey, come on. I'm sorry." He just wanted her to stop crying. His heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest.

"It's not you." Emily mumbled between sobs, her head in her hands. She wasn't about to tell him that the reason for the waterworks was because the enormity of her mistakes hit her like a ton of bricks. She collected herself enough to form a sentence, looking at Derek. "It's just been a long couple of weeks."

Derek nodded, eying her suspiciously. He didn't believe it for a second – sure, he was no longer a profiler, but the ability to read people – especially Prentiss – didn't just go away for him. He searched her tear-streaked face for anything that might give away the reason for her emotional distress.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. She _was_ sorry, but not for Derek. For Savannah, Hank, Mark. She needed to leave before she lost control of her emotions completely. The look of concern and complete kindness on his face was enough to break her. "I should never have come here. I just needed to see…"

Derek sighed, deciding enough was enough. He grabbed her waist, pulling her closer and crashing his lips against hers. He closed his eyes, taking in the taste of Emily Prentiss – _his_ Prentiss. He'd dreamed about this moment for so long but it was so much better than he could ever have imagined. Her lips were soft and they tasted like coconut. His hands were tangled in her hair and her arms were around him, her warm fingers rubbing the back of his neck.

Emily was so stunned that she didn't know how to react. She knew she should pull away, but her lips were chapped from the cold and the feel of his lips against hers was intoxicatingly warm. She was too tired to fight anymore. She pulled him closer and sank against him, letting him have his way. The kiss felt so short, and when Derek finally pulled away, she wanted more. "You." She finished, staring at him with wide eyes. It was her who leaned in this time, their lips colliding once again. Their lips moved together in perfect harmony and Emily, as guilty as she felt, couldn't pull away.

He smiled against her lips when she started moaning against his. Her hands suddenly lowered from around his neck to his arms, his chest. He wasn't sure who first initiated it, but soon they were tugging at each other's clothes. He pulled her closer so that she was situated on his lap before standing, her legs wrapped around his waist. He carried her to the bedroom and carefully set her down on the bed. He pulled away and walked to the other side, chuckling at the noise of protest that came from the woman when their lips were no longer connected.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him down on the bed, scooting closer to him before connecting their lips once again. All thoughts of his family and Mark left her mind, consumed with the feeling of salvation that only Derek seemed to make better.


	2. Come Around

**Chapter Two**

When Derek woke up the next morning, it took him a minute to remember what happened. The previous night came flooding back to him all at once and he closed his eyes, the magnitude of their mistake punching him in the gut. He looked next to him and saw the empty space where Emily was laying last night. "Damn it." He cursed, that familiar jabbing feeling in his heart coming back. Only she could do that to him. She must've woken up early and ran out before he could stop her. _Great job, Derek. You scared her away. Again._ He thought bitterly.

 _Emily stood at the gate's entrance, gripping the handle of her suitcase. She turned around quickly when someone bumped into her. On any other day, she would've given them a piece of her mind, but she was too tired today. She just wanted to get to her London flat and cry herself to sleep._

 _"_ _Emily!"_

 _She turned around when she heard her name, searching the crowd for anyone that she recognized. She saw him at the window, being held back by two guards. He was screaming at them, saying he was a federal agent and he had to get through. The guards weren't buying it, though._

 _She slowly walked over to the scene being caused by her former partner, her heart beating a thousand times a minute. She was running through all the reasons he could've gone after her. Something must have happened to the team, or maybe little Henry. She didn't know. She put her hand on one of the guard's arms and he turned to her, an angry look on his face. "He's clear."_

 _The guards looked at each other before letting him go through. He was breathing heavily – he had driven to the airport with the sirens on and had to run through the airport to find out which gate she was in. "You can't go." He finally managed to breathe out, kneeling over in an attempt to catch his breath._

 _"_ _Why not?" Her voice was filled with concern. Concern for the people she loved, concern for his wellbeing. "What's going on?" He looked at her and Emily noticed his eyes resembled those of a sad puppy dog. She put a hand on his arm and he visibly calmed._

 _He hadn't thought this far ahead. He never even thought about what he would say when she asked him why she needed to stay. He guessed he was just hoping she'd agree and run into his arms and they'd live happily ever after._

 _"_ _Derek?"_

 _He froze like a deer in the headlights, his mind running a mile a minute. He couldn't think of a logical reason for her to stay. He could say someone got hurt, but she'd find out that was a lie eventually. She was looking at him expectantly, and he realized that he was going to lose her if he didn't think fast._

 _"_ _Morgan, I have a flight to catch. Did something happen? Is everyone okay?"_

 _Derek sighed, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, her expression was different – unreadable. There was still some concern, but mostly anger. Anger for wasting her time, anger for holding her back. She was ready for a new chapter in her life and there he was, telling her not to go through with it. How dare he? He realized he had no power over her. He'd tell her, she'd laugh in his face and board her flight. He'd be the laughing stock of the entire plane. He shook his head, pulling away from her. "Never mind. Go. Enjoy London."_

 _Emily looked at him confusedly, her eyes searching his face for anything that might give him away. Nothing. He was a profiler, after all. He knew just as well as she did how to hide his emotions from everyone else. "Are you sure?"_

 _Derek nodded, plastering on a fake smile. "Positive." He scolded himself as she turned around and gave one last glance towards him before walking towards the gate attendant and handing him her boarding pass. He was sure he'd never get the image of her walking through the door out of his mind._

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his t shirt from the night before laying on the floor next to her side of the bed. He threw on a pair of pants and picked it up. It still smelled like her. He held it up to his nose, breathing in the scent of the woman – one of them, anyway – that he loved.

He threw the shirt in the laundry before walking into the kitchen and grabbing a coffee mug. He needed caffeine. _What you need is Emily, you idiot._ He sat down and waited for the coffee to brew, putting his head in his hands. JJ. He would call JJ. If anyone knew how to get in touch with the brunette, it was her. He sighed, picking up his cell phone and dialing the familiar number.

 _"_ _Jareau."_

"JJ, it's me." The words came out too fast and he was pretty sure his voice cracked. It pained him to talk about it, but if he was going to ask her about Emily, she would want to know what was going on in return. "I need a favor."

* * *

Emily always hated airports. Even though she spent the majority of her childhood and teenage years in airports across the world, she would always dread going to the busy buildings. They always made her feel so small. So many eager tourists and businesspeople with such busy schedules, it was a sure-fire way to make you feel invisible.

She walked to the woman behind the desk, handing her passport to her. The woman looked at the passport and smiled widely at her. Emily didn't think it was sincere until she spoke.

"Thank you for your service, Agent Prentiss."

Emily was taken aback by her words, but nodded nonetheless. She took the passport back and gave the woman a quick smile before walking away and going through security. Once they cleared her, she took one of the only empty seats in the gatehouse. She still had half an hour before she needed to board the plane. She pulled her phone out to check her messages and her heart sank when she saw she had several messages from both JJ and Garcia. Her mind immediately went to the team. Was everyone okay? She didn't think she'd be able to take it if something happened to one of them and she wasn't there to help. She opened the latest message from JJ.

 _He just wants to talk to you. Call him, please._

Emily shook her head, as if JJ could see her. Her heart had suffered enough. She wasn't about to stick around just so Derek could tell her that nothing could happen between them and it was just a drunken mistake. Her mind was made up. She would go back to London and forget about it. She would try to move on with Mark. It would take some time, but Mark was a great guy and she believed it was entirely possible.

She mentally cursed when a mother and her young son sat next to her. She didn't mind kids when they were quiet, but this little boy was running around the gatehouse, pretending to be a dinosaur and grabbing at people with his tiny hands. She smiled sympathetically at the mother when her attempts to calm her son went ignored.

"Do you have kids?" She asked, her tired eyes a silent scream for help.

Emily let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "No." The woman asked if she had kids, not if she was ever pregnant, so she left out the abortion she had when she was a teenager. She did always think of Declan as a son, but he wasn't her blood and she didn't want to scare the poor woman with stories from her fucked up past. "I don't think I'd have the patience." She wasn't lying. While she loved being a part-time mother while she was undercover in Tuscany, she didn't think she'd be able to handle the stress and worries that come with being a full-time parent.

Her face paled as one important detail from the night before came rushing back to her in the form of nausea. Her hand flew to her mouth and she stood quickly, holding her other hand up to excuse herself from the other woman. She ran to the closest bathroom and closed the stall behind her before falling to her knees and emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

* * *

Garcia pulled into the parking lot of the motel that Emily told her she was staying at. As soon as Emily texted her with the address of the motel and the reason she wasn't on the plane, the blonde technical analyst told Hotch that she would be late and was on her way to her friend.

She stepped out of her car and made the short walk to the door, raising her hand and knocking three times. The door swung open a few seconds later and out popped a distressed looking Emily. "Prentiss." She whispered, pushing her friend back into the room and closing the door behind them. She wanted to yell at her, tell her to at least talk to Derek, that he was hurting too. But when she saw her, she felt her pain. She wrapped her arms around her friend, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

When they pulled away, she looked around the room. It was small, dirty and it smelled like something died. Maybe Emily didn't even notice the smell of deco anymore, but Garcia sure did. She held a hand to her nose to block the smell. "Why on Earth are you in this craphole?"

Emily shrugged, looking around the room herself. She sat down on the bed, but Garcia quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her back up, as if she was afraid she'd catch some kind of disease from it. "I sold my apartment when I moved to London. I have nowhere else to go."

"Oh, sweets," Garcia started, putting a hand on her friend's arm and rubbing it comfortingly. It hurt her that Emily thought that. She had an entire family of FBI agents by her side. "Go to Morgan."

Emily ran her fingers through her hair, tugging at the ends in frustration. She couldn't go to Derek. Not after last night. She could still feel him, smell him, and as much as she missed his gentle and loving touch, it wasn't fair to anyone but herself if she went back to him. She'd rather not have him and hurt for a while than have him and hurt innocent people in the process. "I can't, Penelope. It isn't fair."

Garcia scoffed and rolled her eyes, waving a hand as if she was dismissing Emily's words. " _Nothing_ about what you two have been through is fair, Em. You just have to decide if it's worth it."

Was it worth it? She thought so, but if it didn't work out, they would be right back to square one. Only Derek would be without a family and she would be alone again. It took Mark months to break down her walls, and he didn't deserve to be hurt like that.

Maybe Garcia was right, though. They've been through so much together, maybe they deserved a little happiness, however long it may last. Her eyes burned with tears for the third time since the previous night, and she cursed herself for being so damn emotional. She couldn't blame it on the beer this time, though. She only had herself to blame.

"Look at you." Garcia started, pointing an accusatory finger at the brunette. "I haven't seen you this upset since you left for London. You can't tell me you don't miss him."

Emily sighed, dropping her head into her hands. Garcia was right – not that she'd ever tell her that, she'd never hear the end of it. She wanted to see him, more than anything, and maybe for the first time since they met, what they wanted really _was_ all that mattered.

"Don't stress too much, though. It's not good for the little one."

* * *

Derek swung open the door, a small smile forcing its way onto his face when he saw her standing on his doorstep. He opened the door wider for her to come in, placing a hand on the small of her back when she entered. He closed the door behind her before pulling her into his arms once again. His lips met hers and she pulled away for second, as if she wanted to tell him how wrong it was, before he felt the familiar warmth again. He groaned when his phone started to ring, reluctantly pulling away from her. He looked at the caller ID and visibly paled.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked, getting closer to him to see what was making him upset. Her head was resting on his forearm, her hair brushing against his bare skin. She quickly pulled away when she saw the caller, as if she could see them through the phone.

Derek sat down on the couch, touching the 'accept call' button. "Savannah."

Emily watched as he listened to what she was saying, afraid to get too close to him. His face told her everything she needed to know. His wife and son were on their way home. She needed to go before they got there. If Savannah caught her with him, they'd have to answer more questions than they could.

Derek hung up the phone and looked at Emily. He stood up and started towards her, only for her to back away. "Savannah and Hank are half an hour away."

Emily nodded in understanding, swallowing the lump in her throat. God, she just wanted to be with Derek. Was that too much to ask? "If I leave now, I can…"

"Yeah." Derek started, avoiding her gaze and rubbing the back of his neck. Emily noticed he only did it when he was nervous. She loved that about him. "I was thinking the same thing." He said, his eyes slowly rising to meet hers.

"So…" Emily started, heading towards the door. One hand rested on the doorknob, while her other hand reached out for Derek's. She intertwined their fingers, squeezing his hand gently. She reluctantly let him go after a moment, opening the door. As soon as Derek's wife called, Emily had made up her mind. She would go back to London, start her life over with Mark and forget about Derek. It was in the best interest of everyone involved if she kept quiet about her current situation. "I'll call you when I land."

Somehow those words were the final twist of the knife in his heart. He sat down on the arm of the couch, his head in his hands and his body shaking with sobs. Three times was too damn many. He just wanted Emily to stay in DC where he could be with her, seek her comfort when he needed it and vice versa. He loved being the one she talked to when she was upset. He'd gone to such extremes to prove that she could trust him and they had finally been at that point in their relationship before she went to London. He felt like he was losing her again.

Emily closed the door, slowly walking over to Derek. She put a hand on his back and she was stunned when he grabbed her shirt and pulled her closer, gripping onto the fabric of her blazer as he cried on her shoulder. She whispered soothing words in his ear, the sound of her voice seemingly calming him down. She just couldn't take his tears. He was always the strong, composed one. She didn't like this Derek. She did the only thing she could think of. She pulled away and placed two fingers under his chin, forcing him to look at her. She slowly leaned in, her lips meeting his. When they pulled away, her hands were on his arms. "We really need to stop these mental breakdowns." She joked, wiping his tears away.

He chuckled through the tears and pulled her closer so she was sitting on his lap. He composed himself enough to tell her what had brought on his tears. "I already let you go twice. I can't go through that again."

Emily wrapped her arms around his neck, pecking his lips. She hated the thought of leaving just as much as he did. But she had a life in London, and she'd worked hard to build that life. She had to keep that life. For the sake of both hers and Derek's relationships. "I have to go back eventually. I can't just leave my job."

"Hotch would take you back in a heartbeat, Prentiss. You know that."

Emily did know that. She knew that her life in DC would be able to resume just as if she'd never left, but was she ready for that? Could she handle seeing the look on Savannah's face when she found out? Or when Derek had to file for divorce because his wife could no longer look at him the same way? Could she handle the team when they found just how much she screwed up?

Surely, they would have words. Rossi would lecture her on the infidelity of both of them, because, though he seemingly took a page from Ross Geller's book when it came to marriage, he firmly believed that cheating was one of the worst things a human could do, no matter the circumstances.

JJ would be understanding, sure, but could Emily stand the looks of disapproval from her? Derek told her how close Savannah and her were. JJ wouldn't want her to hurt. If she took Savannah's side, could Emily take losing such a close friend?

Hotch would talk to her about missing her chance, and how things would have been better if she'd realized her feelings before Savannah came along. He would tell her what a big mistake they made and he'd probably never be able to look at them the same way again. Emily couldn't bear the thought.

The only ones who would understand would be Garcia and Reid. Never ones for conflict or confrontation, they would just want their friends to be happy. Was she really able to stand losing half of her team over a stupid one-night-stand? More importantly, was Derek able to stand losing his _family_? She thought not.

Was she ready to leave London for DC? Of course she missed her team, but she was used to London. Could she really just leave it behind? She guessed that she could, in time. She had Derek - she hoped, anyway - and the promise of a steady paycheck. But DC was filled with demons, old and new, and she wasn't sure she could handle them. Garcia's words played back in her mind.

 _"You just have to decide if it's worth it."_

Emily decided it was.


	3. All Downhill From Here

**Chapter Three**

Emily was in DC for the past eight weeks. She had been seeing less and less of Derek ever since she found out she was pregnant, but she had decided to stay in DC while she waited until she was far enough along to terminate it.

She had called Mark and told him that she needed to stay on official business. Of course, that was a lie, but she just couldn't find a way to tell him that she slept with her former colleague. That was the least of her worries, though, as she sat in the hospital waiting room and waited for her name to be called.

Memories came flooding back to the first time she was in this predicament. Of course, there were no wives and kids or too-good-for-her-boyfriends in London back then. Still, what other choice did she have? She'd tell Derek and then he'd tell her to go back home and she'd never see him again.

The only person she told was Garcia and she was surprised and grateful that she had kept it a secret for so long. Penelope was one of the sweetest people Emily's ever come across, but a confidante she was not. She didn't tell her about the appointment, though. She knew she'd try to talk her out of it. She'd probably tell Derek in a feeble attempt to get her to change her mind.

Her phone buzzed in her coat pocket and she looked at the caller ID. Hotch. She guessed she should answer it. He'd only have more questions if she let his calls go to voicemail. She collected herself before pressing the 'accept call' button. "Hotch."

 _"_ _Where are you?"_

She winced. His voice was firm, serious. Should she tell him where she was? On one hand, he could get Garcia to track her phone and then he'd find out she lied. On the other hand, why the hell did she care so much? She was Emily Prentiss. She _never_ followed the rules. She always did things her own way, consequences be damned.

Even when she was with the BAU, she always listened to what Hotch was saying, but she did things the way that she saw fit. It was the cause of almost every fight the two colleagues had in the past. "At the motel." She lied, holding her head in her free hand. She could feel a migraine coming on already. "Why?"

 _"_ _I need you in my office. Tell the receptionist that you'll have to reschedule your appointment."_

Emily froze. How did he know? Did Garcia finally break? No. She'd have called her to warn her first. She shook her head. Trying to figure Hotch out was a fruitless effort, she'd decided. Still, she had to ask. "How did you…"

 _"_ _I can hear the receptionist calling names in the background. That tells me that you're somewhere in public. The woman coughing next to you tells me that you're around sick people. And your voice always rises when you lie. I should know, you've done enough of it." He paused, as if he just remembered something. "Why are you at the hospital? Are you feeling alright?"_

Emily looked next to her, sending a death glare to the woman who gave her away. She sighed, running her free hand through her hair. "I'm fine. What do you need?"

 _"_ _I'd like to talk about reinstating you."_

* * *

Derek couldn't bring himself to tell her. He had come up with a million and one ways to phrase it, but nothing that would make the news any easier for her. She was upstairs, putting Hank to sleep, and he had made up his mind that once she was finished, he would tell her. It was only fair. He felt like it was best to get it over with as quick as possible, like ripping off a band-aid.

She came into the kitchen a few minutes later, and smiled widely at her husband. He attempted to smile back, but his heart was hurting for both the women in his life. Savannah didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of the heartbreak. And more than anything, he just wanted Emily to be happy. After losing countless hours of sleep over the decision he had to make, he found himself thinking of ways to tell Savannah that he was unfaithful with the woman who she helped him get over years before.

 _Derek awoke to the sound of pounding on his door and he let out a low growl, the first proper sleep he'd gotten since Emily died interrupted by who he could only assume was JJ coming over to check up on him. He swung open the door, ready to give her hell, when he came face to face with someone who definitely_ _ **wasn't**_ _JJ._

 _"_ _Hi." The woman greeted, holding up a hand in a small wave. "Um, I'm Savannah. I live across the hall and…God, I feel stupid now." She had been watching him for the past few weeks, and noticed how depressed he looked. She was going to approach him but she didn't feel like it was any of her business._

 _Talk around the apartment building was that he was an FBI profiler, so she assumed it was just a tough couple of weeks. But when he stopped coming out of his apartment altogether, she started to get worried. "I just wanted to see if you were okay."_

 _"_ _Fine." He said simply, starting to close the door. He groaned when Savannah put her foot out to stop it. Couldn't the world just leave him alone for once? "Look, it's nothing personal. I just want to be alone."_

 _"_ _Is it that FBI agent that used to come over here all the time?" Savannah had seen the dark-haired woman and Derek together on more than one occasion – more like every second weekend. They must have been close because she had a key to his apartment, simply walking in whenever she arrived. The only reason she knew she was FBI was because she saw her gun holster once._

 _Derek stared at Savannah, his eyes flashing with hurt and anger. How did she know about Prentiss? He clenched his fists at his sides. He'd had enough. Life had thrown him one too many curveballs. "I told you," he started, his voice low and bitter, "I want to be alone."_

 _"_ _She's dead, isn't she?" Savannah had seen the two of them together. They were too close. Just weeks before, she had seen them walking down the hall with their arms linked together. She was laughing at something he had said and Derek's face lit up, the sound of her laugh seemingly the single best thing he'd ever heard. Savannah was sure t_ _here was no way she would just_ _ **stop**_ _showing up. Something tragic had to have happened. Her heart hurt for him, especially after seeing the way he looked at her._

 _Derek opened his mouth to yell at her, tell her to leave and that she had some nerve to show up when he was mourning his best friend's death and rub it in his face. But he was just so tired, all that came out was a defeated sigh and then, "Yes."_

"Derek?" Savannah sat down across from him, taking his hand in hers. "Are you okay?"

He sighed, pulling away from Savannah. He found that since he had the privilege of Emily's touch, he didn't want anyone else's. "We need to talk."

* * *

Emily stood up from the bed when the unexpected visitor started knocking on her door. She walked towards the door, opening it slowly to reveal Derek. She opened the door wider for him to come in before closing it behind him. "What are you doing here?" She really didn't want him to see her like this – homeless and alone.

"Garcia gave me the address." He said, looking around the place. She had tried to make it as homey as possible, pictures of her and the team sitting on the desk and nightstand. She must have gone out and bought new bedsheets as well, he thought, because this shithole was far too revolting to have such nice bedding. He thought he'd better get used to it and fast because it looked like Emily was about to have a roommate.

He could see she'd been crying, the shoddy attempt to cover it up with makeup evident even to him. He decided not to say anything about it, instead opting for the topic of the place she was forced to call home. "Prentiss, what the hell are you doing?"

Emily reached up into the cupboard and pulled out two mugs. "Hey, not everyone can have the luxury of a home, Derek." She paused, her eye catching something in the bottom of the mugs. She made a face at the thought of the staff not cleaning their dishes properly. She turned around and sighed. "What are you doing here?" She asked again. This time, her voice was weaker. She sounded defeated.

Derek decided to keep quiet about her comment about him having a home. That wasn't true anymore, but she didn't need to know that. She'd only blame herself. He'd bring it up when she was more emotionally stable. "You've been AWOL for the past month and a half. I had to call Garcia to make sure you didn't bail overnight."

Emily opened her mouth to say something, but she closed it promptly after the look on his face. She knew that look – she'd been on the receiving end of it too many times to count. It was the look he had when he found her bleeding out five years prior. "Hotch offered me my job back." She said, changing the subject.

He listened as she told him about her meeting with Hotch and how he was so quick to start the process of her becoming an agent with the BAU again. He told her he would have to go through Cruz and the assistant director, but he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Derek was happy for her, mainly because she'd be able to afford to get out of that hellhole and move into a place of her own. On the other hand, it meant that the hellhole would be his exclusively until he could find a place of his own. It also meant that they'd be seeing much less of each other, which led Derek to wonder what made any of what they've been through worth it.

Emily stopped when she noticed Derek was staring at a single speck on the dining table. She placed her hand on his arm. "Hey," she started, continuing when Derek looked at her. "What's wrong?" She would readily welcome anybody else's problems. Her life was seemingly falling apart at the seams – again – and she was willing to carry any random person's burdens so that she didn't have to deal with her own.

She'd carry Derek's so he didn't have to.

"Is it your wife?"

Derek noticed that Emily never actually addressed Savannah by name, and when he thought about it, he realized the reason was because it would make things too personal for her. His heart hurt. He knew how hard this whole thing was for both of them, but it had to be exponentially harder for Prentiss. It just wasn't in her nature to hurt other people.

Even when they were agents, she would try her hardest not to harm the unsubs. When she had to, she would get depressed for days afterwards. Of course, she hid it well, but Derek knew. He brought it up one time and she told him if they found out, she was afraid they'd think she wasn't able to do the job as well as the rest of them. He told her that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. He told her she was the best they had. It was the first time he'd seen her _really_ smile.

"What's the point?"

Emily froze, her breath caught in her throat. He couldn't have been talking about them, right? After everything they've been through the past couple of months, he couldn't be considering calling it off, could he? "The point of what, Derek?"

"This. Us. Prentiss, I've been waiting for you to come around for years. Why now? Why when I've finally moved on and settled down with someone else, do you have to come back and ruin everything?" He winced, the harshness of his own words hitting him like a ton of bricks. He hadn't meant to say it, but too many things were happening at once and he just snapped. "God, Emily, I'm sorry."

She knew he was. That didn't make his words any less painful. Emily's face hardened for only a second before she looked away. She took the mugs and began rinsing them out with dish soap. She started scrubbing the mugs harder, her anger evident in her voice when she said, "I'm trying my best here, Derek. I'm only certified to deal with one catastrophe at a time."

As if on cue, the ceiling started creaking. Emily didn't seem to notice but Derek was suddenly feeling more hypervigilant than usual. The creaking got louder and this time Emily noticed, turning towards the source of the noise.

"Fuck!" She cursed, the mugs she was cleaning now abandoned in the sink. She walked towards the ceiling, trying to figure out what was making the noise. She heard Derek say it was going to collapse before she felt him grab her hand and pull her out of the room.

Derek looked her over, satisfied that he got her out unscathed. He could see her clenching her fists by her side and he put his hand on the small of her back. She turned around and he could see the silent tears running down her cheeks.

Emily just stared at Derek, the one good thing left in her life. She didn't even bother to wipe her tears away, she just wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face in his shoulder, her sobs muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Things went from bad, to almost okay, to downright terrible. And now she really was homeless. This was rock bottom.

* * *

Hotch had to work fast. Morgan had called and told him about the motel. He had offered to let Emily stay at the bureau until she was reinstated, but he knew that it wasn't good enough. He remembered when Garcia had to stay at the bureau for her own protection. She was a wreck.

Of course, Emily was tougher than the perky blonde – she was tougher than most – but he knew better. She needed a _home_ , which is why he was on his way to meet with the assistant director to talk to him about giving Prentiss her job back.

Of course, he would have to explain _why_ , and he wasn't sure the couple was ready for everyone to know yet. He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, as if that would actually solve anything.

Moments later, he arrived in front of his superior's office and knocked on the door. He opened the door when he heard the assistant director's voice.

"Come in!"

Hotch stepped into his office, sitting in the chair in front of the older man's desk. "I'd like to talk to you about reinstating Agent Emily Prentiss."


End file.
